Yun Xi closed the distance in an instant, pulled the crimson-tasseled spear from the ground, and leveled it before Cheng Chang, shouting sharply, “Why does the Front Hall Command dare to harm him?!”

The chief guard of the Front Hall Command had, in fact, been ordered by Xuan Zhi to take the Third Young Master’s life. Seeing Yun Xi appear so suddenly, he could not tell what had changed — and glancing back along the path she had come from, he saw perhaps a thousand or more men in the distance, unable to gauge just how many troops she had actually brought to Mingyin Temple.

Though the Front Hall Command had many men lying in ambush across Pingnan Mountain, most were hidden near the Palace of Bestowed Grace. To clash so abruptly with the Loyal Valor Corps led by General Mingwei would be unwise, especially with Prince Ling’s great army both within and beyond the temple.

The chief guard muttered under his breath, “Retreat!” and swiftly withdrew with his squad.

Yun Xi did not send anyone after them. She quickly lowered her spear, and seeing blood all over Cheng Chang’s mouth and clothes, hurried to help him up, asking anxiously, “Third Young Master, are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Whether it was because the mortal danger had passed, the searing pain from the twisting of time and space slowly began to recede from his body; his vision gradually cleared, and his hearing returned to normal.

Though he still felt utterly drained, his heart — battered by waves of fire in that ordeal — finally settled back into place.

His awareness restored, Cheng Chang took a long moment before answering, “I’m not hurt.”

Then he said, “A’Ting, you shouldn’t have come.”

Yun Xi looked carefully over Cheng Chang’s clothes and, finding no tears or wounds, breathed a slight sigh of relief.

She lifted her sleeve to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, saying as she did, “The Third Young Master was in mortal danger — I couldn’t just do nothing. You were worried I’d be implicated, so you could have said nothing to me and left me behind, going into danger alone — but I can’t do that, look out only for myself.”

As she spoke, her eyes were lowered, and there was something almost resentful in her tone.

Cheng Chang caught the note of reproach in her words and explained, “If today’s dire situation touched only me, and only you would be implicated by it, then even dragging you into danger with me wouldn’t matter. But, A’Ting, you are not alone — you belong to a house of generals.”

Each time he had fallen into desperate straits before, he had always been alone. If he could, wouldn’t he too wish for someone to share life and death with him?

But she was the daughter of a house of generals, and now a general of the court in her own right. Having been branded a “rebel traitor” by Emperor Zhaoyuan, if she brought troops to help him, wouldn’t that ruin the reputation of the Zhongyong Marquis household, generations of loyal and devoted service reduced to nothing, turned into the name of a family of traitors who had betrayed their country and defied the throne?

Even if she had a way to clear the Zhongyong Marquis household of blame, he could not let her take such a risk. And what of the countless innocent soldiers who would be implicated as well?

In this world, life and death were matters of the utmost weight — precisely because of that, every single life was a life, and no one should have to be sacrificed for another. This was his own code, his own boundary.

The sound of fighting across the mountain wilds roared to a boil. General Xuanwu’s troops had broken through the temple gate and were already fighting their way into Mingyin Temple.

With Cheng Mingsheng dead in battle, the Cavalry General captured, and the Defender-of-the-State General’s remaining forces scattered in flight, without those ten-thousand-odd men to support them, the Guard Command’s guards — however brave and skilled in battle — were, outnumbered as they were, being pushed back step by step by Prince Ling’s forces.

Chaos reigned across the mountain. The Guard Command met the enemy head-on, while several squads of the Front Hall Command, caught in the turmoil, fought desperately to break through — fighting raged everywhere.

Further off, many of the temple halls had already caught fire; the flames, fed by the wind, and the wind, fueled by the flames, burned the dusk sky into a strange, eerie blood-red.

Su Tai and Luo Fu, having disengaged from their struggle with the Front Hall Command, hurried over to Cheng Chang. Seeing him unharmed, they realized Yun Xi had protected him at the most critical moment, and both thanked her at once.

Cui Yu, having shaken off his pursuers, cupped his hands toward Yun Xi. “General, General Xuanwu has just brought his troops this way — his men have spotted us!”

With the situation critical, no one had time to stand on ceremony. Hearing Cui Yu’s words, Su Tai asked at once, “How many men did you bring?”

Yun Xi said, “I originally had twenty thousand, but the only reason I was able to infiltrate Mingyin Temple safely today was thanks to my alliance with Pei Lan. I’ve now given up most of my troops to him — I have only two thousand in hand.”

Two thousand soldiers sounded like a considerable number, but against the current situation, it was truly a drop in the bucket.

Not to mention that Prince Ling had nearly a hundred thousand troops at his command, and Emperor Zhaoyuan’s Front Hall Command guards were no fewer. General Xuanwu had already broken through the eastern gate; Generals Huaiji and Zhang Yue were converging from the northwest of Mingyin Temple. And that was without even counting Emperor Zhaoyuan’s own men hidden throughout the temple.

Among all of them, whoever it was, every single one wanted Cheng Chang dead.

Suddenly, a deafening crash sounded — one of the temple halls, unable to withstand the raging fire, collapsed with a thunderous roar. Thick ash settled over the broken walls, revealing soldiers in silver armor behind the rubble.

Xuanwu’s men.

“Watch out!”

The next instant, Luo Fu called out a sharp warning.

The moment Xuanwu’s front-line soldiers spotted Yun Xi and the others, they drew their bows and nocked arrows without a second thought. Fortunately, Yun Xi’s reflexes were lightning-fast — she raised her crimson-tasseled spear and swept it in a wide arc, deflecting the incoming arrows, and under Cui Yu’s cover, they swiftly retreated behind a Buddhist pagoda.

Xuanwu’s men did not seem to give chase, but no one dared let their guard down. They hurried along the narrow path behind the pagoda, making for the nearest mountain trail.

Along the way, Cui Yu asked, “General, where are we headed?”

Yun Xi thought carefully, but had no answer in mind yet, when she heard Cheng Chang say, “To the Palace of Bestowed Grace.”

“No.” Yun Xi said. “Since His Majesty is unwilling to spare the Third Young Master even now, there must be a large force of the Front Hall Command lying in ambush near the Palace of Bestowed Grace. If we go there, the Third Young Master will only be in greater danger.”

She thought for a moment, then said firmly, “We go south. We’ll escort the Third Young Master down the mountain.”

With that, she turned to change course.

Cheng Chang gripped Yun Xi’s hand tightly, pulling her to a stop. “Prince Ling now knows Pei Lan has betrayed him — he will surely have already sent men to the southern gate of Mingyin Temple. The only one the Front Hall Command refuses to let go is me. If we head down the mountain and run into Prince Ling’s men, what chance would we have of surviving?”

“But—”

“I know — for me, the best choice really would be to go down the mountain, to leave Jinling behind from this day forward. But that’s far too risky. Even if we could break through Prince Ling’s pursuers, who’s to say Pei Ming wouldn’t send men to intercept us along the way? Just now, one round of gunpowder already exploded to the southwest — Prince Ling leaves nothing to chance in what he does. How do you know there isn’t more gunpowder waiting outside the mountain? Besides, heading toward the Palace of Bestowed Grace — I may yet have a chance there too.”

Cheng Chang paused for breath. “His Majesty has long since planted men within the mountain, ready to take my life at any moment. Yet earlier, even as Prince Ling’s forces attacked from below the mountain in such dire circumstances, he still waited until Tian Wang’an had led the clan members away before issuing the order for my execution. What does that tell you? It tells you he doesn’t want anyone to know I was killed by his hand — he wants it to look as though I died amid the chaos of war. If we can appear at the Palace of Bestowed Grace, before the eyes of the clan members, while Prince Ling and the Front Hall Command are still locked in fierce battle, I can turn this danger into safety.”

Even if that safety might only be temporary, at this point, with no perfect plan available, there was nothing to do but take it one step at a time.

Behind them came the sound of pursuers; the road closest to the Palace of Bestowed Grace was ablaze with fire, temple halls burning on every side. But they had no choice now — hearing Cheng Chang’s words, Yun Xi gave a single nod, turned, and led the way straight through the burning corridor engulfed in flame.

Along the way, they did encounter men from Xuanwu’s and Huaiji’s forces — but, oddly enough, they had this great fire to thank, for Prince Ling’s troops were reluctant to fight amid the flames, allowing them to slip past danger time and again.

Yet even so, the sounds of marching troops around them grew heavier — it seemed more of Prince Ling’s forces were massing nearby.

Orders echoed through the mountain wilds. Though night had fallen, the firelight left them nowhere to hide.

The Palace of Bestowed Grace was unreachable; if the temple grounds were sealed off entirely, sooner or later they would meet a dead end.

“General, the road ahead is blocked. Generals Huaiji and Zhang Yue have brought their men from the west and are forming ranks before the pagoda ahead. We can only retreat east,” Cui Yu reported, having scouted the path ahead.

“We can’t go east — Xuanwu came from the east, and Prince Ling is there too,” Su Tai said.

The Palace of Bestowed Grace was only three miles away, but both mountain roads leading to it were now blocked. The only route left… Yun Xi looked ahead — the three-story Guanyin Pavilion stood engulfed in a sea of flame, like some palace ruled by the lord of the underworld.

Though this hellish pavilion could not be passed through directly, going around it might still offer a sliver of hope.

The sound of marching drew closer, and in the darkness, rows of figures gleaming silver in the firelight emerged — General Huaiji, leading his troops, appeared before them.

Having fought all day, his eyes were already red with bloodlust. Seeing figures fleeing in panic amid the fire and shadow of night, he instinctively raised his sword and shouted, “Loose arrows!”

In an instant, arrows rained down like a storm, blanketing the sky.

Cheng Chang had already anticipated this. Pulling Yun Xi behind the Guanyin Pavilion for cover, he suddenly released her hand. “Go, quickly.”

“Third Young Master?” Yun Xi looked at him, startled.

Cheng Chang said, “If both of us stay in this situation, neither of us will survive. The one they want dead is me. If they see me, they should hold off for the moment. Go now — circle around this pagoda and head down the mountain. You’ll surely be safe.”

Yun Xi said, “No. I came here today for the sole purpose of protecting the Third Young Master’s safety — how could I abandon you and save only myself?”

She paused, then continued, “Third Young Master, you go. Huaiji doesn’t know I’ve come up the mountain today — with me facing him, he won’t be able to gauge my strength right away, and he certainly won’t dare to strike with full force. I can hold him off, buy you time to survive. I have the ability to do this — trust me, Third Young Master.”

Having said this, she gave an immediate order. “Su Tai, escort the Third Young Master down the mountain at once!” With that, she raised her spear and made to head toward the front of Guanyin Pavilion.

“No!” Cheng Chang stopped her.

He took a slow breath, and said, word by word, “A’Ting, listen to me. Even if I’m fated to die amid the chaos of battle today, that doesn’t necessarily mean I will. I’ve come to the brink of death several times before — fallen from cliffs, plunged into fire — and never once survived it in the ordinary sense, and yet in the end I came back to life anyway. Go, quickly. Nothing will happen to me.”

Guanyin Pavilion had shielded their group from the arrows; the rain of arrows outside had stopped, but in its place came the sound of an approaching search party.

By the firelight, Yun Xi looked at Cheng Chang — his gaze was earnest and resolute. Those eyes, she thought, however they had come to be, could take a fire this fierce, this consuming, and let it settle in eyes as calm and clear as still water, transforming it into a gentle star at the edge of the sky. She was probably fated, in this life, never to escape a man like him.

Yun Xi said, “The Third Young Master says he won’t necessarily die, that nothing will necessarily happen to you. But what if, this time, you don’t come back to life? I can’t accept a ‘what if’ like that. You can gamble with your own life — but I can’t afford that bet.”

Soldiers in silver armor had already appeared behind Guanyin Pavilion. Having said this, Yun Xi abruptly stepped back, raised her crimson-tasseled spear high, and called out sharply, “Cui Yu, form ranks!”

“Yes!”

The two thousand soldiers spread out at once — few in number, yet carrying a formidable presence.

The next instant, Yun Xi suddenly shouted, “Su Tai!”

Fire raged and spread through Guanyin Pavilion. Yun Xi pushed off from a nearby broken wall with the tip of her foot, leaping into the air, her crimson-tasseled spear swinging upward and striking down at the joint where the beams of the Guanyin hall met.

Weakened by the raging fire, the beam, struck by this heavy blow, gave way and came crashing down. The burning beam fell right before Cheng Chang — but fortunately, Su Tai, warned by Yun Xi’s signal, had already pulled Cheng Chang several steps back in preparation.

By the time Cheng Chang came to his senses, the fallen, burning timber and its raging flame had already separated them, one on each side of the fire.

Yun Xi looked at Cheng Chang and suddenly asked, “Third Young Master, have you ever looked down on me?”

Without waiting for his answer, she went on quickly, “I know you haven’t. But the truth is, I’ve looked down on myself.”

She smiled. “I fell for the Third Young Master a long time ago. A girl raised on the grasslands ought to speak her mind plainly — but I felt I wasn’t worthy of you, and I never dared to confess my feelings.”

“I’m not gentle, nor as graceful and considerate as the daughters of other noble houses. I’m not good at pleasing people — needlework, the art of tea, I know none of it, let alone the zither, chess, calligraphy, or painting.”

“I was probably more cheerful as a child. But over the years, as the Marquis’s household fell into decline, I spent every day scrambling to keep the household afloat, weighed down until I could barely breathe — so I got into the habit of burying whatever I felt deep inside. Maybe that’s made me a bit dull, a bit wooden.”

“If you hadn’t lit me a whole sky and earth of flower lanterns that day, and told me that you liked me too, I probably would have kept this feeling buried forever, slowly grown distant from the Third Young Master, watched you become the Prince’s Heir, then a prince, take a princess consort — from then on, no connection between us at all. After all… I thought we weren’t a match.”

“But after everything that’s happened since, I don’t think that way anymore.”

“I’ve watched every hard step of the Third Young Master’s road, seen it all with my own eyes. And now, I’m truly grateful that as a child I never learned any of those refined arts — only martial skill. This way, when the Third Young Master runs into danger, I can save you; when someone means you harm, I can protect you; if you go missing, I can search to the ends of the earth for you and never feel it a burden; and if you and I ever face a dead end together, like today, I’m not afraid at all — because I have soldiers behind me, a blade in my hand, and so I have the confidence to stand firm.”

“I told you long ago — I am your spear, and your shield, the sharpest blade in your hand.”

“So you are not alone and helpless, not without means, in this world — you are never, ever, truly alone.”

“What I can do for you, no other woman in this world can do.”

“And so, right now, I think—” Yun Xi paused here, lifting her sleeve to wipe away some grime that had gotten on her face while fleeing for their lives, the corners of her mouth and eyes curving at once into a strikingly playful smile, “I’m a match for you. Just right.”

Having said this, she turned resolutely, raised her crimson-tasseled spear, and led her two thousand soldiers forward toward the enemy ranks.

Those born to houses of generals have never feared life or death.

Bones scattered in the sand, blood set alight in fire — what is there left to fear?